Stake Out
by hyperpsychomaniac
Summary: Boxter and Wackerman decide to follow SheZow, to see if they can find out any of the superheroine's secrets. Boxter gets a bit more than he bargained for.
1. Chapter 1

"This sucks." Boxter groaned.

He and Wackerman sat in their police cruiser, parked at the side of the road. It was well after dark. Boxter sat with the one hand on the steering wheel, the other arm out the window, supporting his jaw with his knuckles as he stared listlessly ahead at the dimly lit street.

Wackerman glanced at him sidelong and his eyes narrowed in the faint glow of the vehicle's interior lighting. "Which part, exactly?" he asked, a growl creeping into his voice. "Night shift? Or doing nothing on night shift? Of just the fact there ain't no good coffee shops open?" He waved his half finished paper cup of barely palatable black ink.

"All of it."

"Well, maybe you should've thought of that before you insulted Johannson's cat photo," Wackerman huffed.

Boxter leaned across and gave his partner a half hearted punch in the shoulder.

"Ow!"

"Yeah, well you shouldn't have laughed, huh?"

"What do you have against cats anyway…"

"Shh!" Boxter sat up, pulling himself out of the slouch.

Down the street, a very distinct vehicle pulled out of a side street and rumbled past them, its beefy engine grumbling at the low speed. Bright pink.

"Oh great, it's SheCow," Boxter groaned.

Wackerman raised an eyebrow. "She's being awfully well behaved."

Boxter huffed. But his partner was right. The Shehicle was barely travelling above thirty. No screeching tyres and burnt rubber, no squeal of its over taxed engine. "She's kidding herself if she thinks she can be stealthy in that thing. I can hear the engine from here."

"Yeah, our police cruisers don't make anywhere near that much noise."

Boxter glanced at his partner. "Hey, yeah… if we turn off our lights, she's not gonna see us, and she sure as hell won't hear us over that engine." He snorted. "If she was a guy I'd say she was compensating for something."

"Let's do it," Wackerman said. "She keeps travelling at that speed it's not like we're gonna lose her."

Boxter put the vehicle in gear and pulled out after the Shehicle, making sure he didn't push the engine too hard. His hands tightened on the wheel. "Alright, let's see what you're up to missy."

* * *

They trundled along behind the Shehicle for some twenty minutes before it arrived at its destination. Down darkened back alleys and sidestreets. The Shehicle barely picked up speed, or suddenly bolt. SheZow was completely unaware she had a tail.

The Shehicle led them to Megadale's docks, where it eventually came to a stop outside an abandoned warehouse.

SheZow stepped out of her vehicle. She folded her arms and glared back in though the open door. "You happy, Sheila? I was nice and quiet - didn't make myself all visible for any villains to follow. Like they'd even care."

Wackerman let out a short laugh. "Oh, this really is our lucky day…"

"Shush." Boxter snapped.

They'd parked in an alleyway that opened out into the lot in front of the warehouse. Barely forty feet from the idling Shehicle. They could hear SheZow, and though her vehicle was quite loud, Boxter didn't want to risk them being heard by her.

Her computer replied back from inside the pink car, though they couldn't make out what she said.

"Yeah, yeah…" SheZow huffed.

"Her voice is doing that thing again," said Wackerman. This time, he kept the volume low.

"What thing?"

"You know how sometimes she kind of sounds like a dude?"

Boxter shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Maybe a twelve year old dude. Maybe her voice is just awful and she makes it all high pitched? I don't know. Not like it usually sounds much better."

The passenger door to the Shehicle swung open and then slammed heavily. "This better be the place, dude. I'm tired."

"Now her sidekick's calling her a dude?" Wackerman cringed. Then he shrugged. "Might just be non gender specific dude - my sister used to let me call her dude…"

Boxter didn't hear him. He sat up straight in his seat. "Oh God."

"What?"

"That's Maz! My son's best friend…" Boxter let out groan and slumped back in his seat, a hand to his face. "What are you doing, you stupid kid?"

"Oh…" Wackerman looked out the windshield and winced. "What are we going to do? Arrest him?"

Boxter huffed. "Come on, Wackerman. I can't arrest Maz. He's twelve. And for what? Being an idiot and hanging out with SheZow? At…" he glanced at his watch. "… two am."

"Yeah, I guess. Maybe you should let his parents know?"

"Like that would do any good. His parents are fricken useless!" Boxter snapped.

"Did you hear something, Maz?" SheZow asked. Her fists tensed and she looked around warily.

Maz shook his head. "Nup."

Boxter scowled and lowered his voice. "I mean, he practically lives at our house. And now he's hanging around with SheZow? What's wrong with him, he got a crush on her or something? Bloody cougar."

"Ya think?" Wackerman looked at him and raised an eyebrow. "Cause if they start making out or something I'm not just going to sit here…"

"Yeah, I know. If she's that stupid I'm getting out of this car and taking a swing at her. I don't care if she's got superpowers. I mean, it's Maz…." He let out a huff. "Let's just see what they do. Pretty sure that's not why they're here."

"Well, I'll just go check out the warehouse," said SheZow. Still, her voice sounded funny. It was echoing off the building walls, and the vast expanse of the bitumen lot. Maybe that was all it was. "Maybe we'll be lucky. And this is where Coldfinger took all that stuff from the ice cream factory."

"And we can go home to our respective beds," Maz finished for her.

"Respective beds. Well that's something…" Wackerman said.

"Just don't. He's a kid."

"Sorry."

SheZow took off, zipping super-fast into the abandoned warehouse.

Maz leaned back on the Shehicle and yawned.

Boxter was ropable. His hands tensed on the steering wheel. "What is a twelve year old kid doing out in the middle of the night anyway?" Seriously? Didn't Maz know how dangerous it was? Stupid, stupid kid. Not that it was his fault. "I mean, don't ya think his parents would wonder where he was? What's wrong with them? You wouldn't catch my kids out at night! And if they did, I think I'd bloody well notice."

"Think if we turn on the sirens it'd scare him enough?"

Boxter snorted. "That'd teach him." Then he shook his head. "No forget it. I'll figure out what to do about Maz later. Maybe Guy'll know if something's going on with him. Right now, we need to sit tight - see if SheZow does anything that'll give her away."

"Like what?" Wackerman snorted. "We'll hardly be able to arrest her. She'd kick our butts."

SheZow came zipping back from her exploration of the warehouse, skidding to a halt.

Maz took his weight off the car. "Find anything?"

"Nada."

Maz groaned. "See? This was a waste of time, Guy! I want to go home to bed. We've got an exam in the morning - you know that."

Boxter tensed. "Wha… what? Did he just call him…"

"Yeah, I heard it too, buddy." Wackerman swallowed and glanced across at his partner. "Well… er… hey… I guess if Maz is with her. I mean…"

"No," Boxter growled. No. His knuckles went white on the steering wheel and his vision blurred. "Maybe it's… like you said… non gender specific 'guy'…"

"That only works for 'dude'. Listen, man, I…"

"My son is not SheZow!" Boxter barked. Then he remembered where they were and his gaze shot up.

Miraculously neither Maz nor… SheZow… had heard him.

"Pft," SheZow waved a hand dismissively. "I'll just copy off Kelly. Perks of having a genius twin."

Boxter squeezed his eyes shut, let out a grunt and hung his head. No. He had to be wrong. Must be some other kid with a genius twin. Named Kelly.

"Yeah, well I'm tired," Maz huffed.

"Yeah, I know." SheZow's shoulders slumped. "And my boots are killing me. I've been running around random warehouses for hours. Coldfinger isn't here. He isn't anywhere."

"So change back. Not like anyone's around here to see anyway," said Maz with a shrug.

Boxter looked up, couldn't stop himself staring out the windshield.

SheZow nodded. "Yeah." He flung out a fist, without any thought for the fact his father was sitting only feet away, desperately willing him not to. "She-yeah."

The transformation fell away. His son was standing there in his cargoes and hoody. His eyes rolled up into his head and he let out a sigh. "Ah. Oh yeah. Much better."

It really didn't help that it was the mirror image of the face Droosha made when she slipped off her bra for the evening. Boxter moaned. Dropped his gaze down to the floor of the car and gripped the wheel for dear life.

Outside the cruiser, the Shehicle let out a beefy roar, then a squeal of tyres. The sound of its engine faded slowly into the night, still carried faintly on the still air. It was pretty damn loud.

Boxter couldn't will himself to look up, not until the sound of his partner's voice roused him.

"Shit, man. You okay?"

Boxter lifted his head and swallowed. He could taste the foul, burnt coffee he'd consumed barely hours ago in the back of his throat. "I… no…" He put a hand to his mouth and bailed out of the cruiser. His stomach was churning. He got to the rear fender and leaned on it, breathing heavily. It took a couple seconds. The feeling of nausea passed. At least enough that he didn't fear he was going to be sick.

"Hey…" Wackerman came around the side of the car. "You okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Boxter snapped, lifting his head.

"You've gone like… white…" Wackerman looked at him and winced. Held a hand out a few inches from his shoulder, like he wasn't quite sure if he should touch him.

Boxter straightened up. "My son's SheZow."

"Yeah, I saw. You know… it's not that bad though…"

Boxter just stared at him. "And just how do you figure that, Wackerman?"

"Well…" Wackerman huffed and his shoulders slumped. "Okay, I don't know."

"He's running around in the middle of the night as… as bloody SheCow!" He pounded a fist on the boot of the car. "What the hell is he thinking?"

"He's twelve. He probably isn't."

Boxter groaned again and hung his head. "And we were just sitting there talking about… him and Maz…"

Wackerman looked at his feet. "Sorry."

"You're not the one who wanted to take a swing at 'her'…" Boxter swallowed hard. Again he could taste bile in his throat.

"Hey, you didn't know."

"Yeah? Well now I do. He's been lying to me. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?"

"So what are you going to do? You gonna confront him?"

"I… I want him to tell me himself. He owes me that at least."

Wackerman sighed. "Hamdon, you had to stalk him to the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night, to find out. What makes you think he'll just tell you? He's obviously been keeping it secret for a reason."

"I'll make him tell me," Boxter straightened. His eyes narrowed. He pushed his weight off of the car, headed to the driver's side door. "You reckon we can beat the Shehicle back to my house? He does have to drop off Maz."

Wackerman was eying him warily. "Maybe… you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Positive." Boxter barely waited for his partner to shut the door before he stomped a foot to the floor and tore off towards home.

* * *

 **A/n:** Yes, I know. I'm writing yet another version of how Boxter finds out his son his SheZow. But it's just so damn fun. Please leave me a review and let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

Boxter pulled up outside his house. It took a great deal of effort not to bring the cruiser to a screeching halt. If Guy was about, he didn't want to alert him. But as he sat at the curb, with the engine idling, he could see no sign of the Shehicle. "I think we might've beaten him back."

"What, does he normally park his supercar in your driveway?" Wackerman huffed.

"Okay, what's eating you?" Boxter fixed his partner with a glare. "It wasn't your son we just found running around the town in pink."

"We've got two hours left on duty," Wackerman said. "Come on, we're in enough trouble with Johansson as it is."

"This is important."

Wackerman folded his arms. "So's my job."

Like he needed back up anyway. "Okay, fine. If you don't like it, leave. This is my business." And Wackerman had already found out more than Boxter was comfortable with. Hell, Boxter was uncomfortable with what he'd just learned. "I'm not going to make you wait around out here if you're worried Johansson will find out." Not that she would. If the Detective wanted to shove them onto night shift just because he'd insulted her overweight cat, he wasn't going to worry about skiving off a few hours. Especially for something involving his family.

Wackerman was still glaring at him. "Yeah, but I bet you're going to expect me to cover for you anyway."

Boxter paused. "I… you don't have to lie… just…"

"Not tell the truth?" Wackerman rolled his eyes. Then he just sighed and undid his seatbelt. "Figured as much. Go on, get out of here. Before I change my mind."

Boxter climbed out of the car, headed up his driveway as he pulled out his keys. Wackerman went around to the driver's side but wouldn't look at him. Just got in, put the car in gear and pulled off without a backward glance. Boxter scowled. But he had more important things to worry about right now than his partner's feelings.

Inside, there was no sign of Guy, nor of any other movements of his family. Boxter took the stairs two at a time, trying not to stomp as he did. He paused at Guy's bedroom door. This was it. He could still pretend his son was safe in bed. Part of him wanted to. But no. He had to suck it up and do this. Boxter gritted his teeth and pushed open the door.

Guy's bed was empty.

Boxter's hand tightened on the doorknob. What if Droosha had woken up, checked on him for some reason, and found him gone? Had Guy even thought of that!? She'd freak. What if he'd come in from work and decided to check on him? If he hadn't just seen his son as SheZow, there were a hundred worse things that could've happened to him, and inevitably they would have been foremost on his mind. He was a cop, he had seen plenty of terrible things happen to kids; he had plenty of reference.

Downstairs, a door slammed.

Boxter scowled and turned around. Footsteps sounded on the stairs. He wasn't even trying to be quiet! Boxter could recall grumbling to Droosha, on more than one occasion, about why the kids insisted on stomping their way to the bathroom in the middle of the night. Had that just been Guy sneaking home too? How long had this been going on for?

Guy mounted the final stair and just about crashed into his father in the semi-darkness. "Dad?"

"Where have you been, son?"

"Um… bath… kitchen!" Guy said, his voice squeaking over the last syllable.

Well, he'd caught him off guard. Enough so he'd almost forgotten they didn't have a bathroom downstairs.

"Okay, I've just come in," Boxter growled, folding his arms and taking up his best dad stance, " And I know for a fact your weren't. Wanna try again?"

Guy looked up at him and swallowed hard. "Um, okay. I wasn't in the kitchen… I was in the basement…"

"Why would you be in the basement?"

"I was… half asleep… I got turned around and…"

"I checked the basement too." Which wasn't true. But maybe if Guy thought he'd been cornered he'd give up and spill the beans.

But his son just stared at him for a moment, mouth working as he struggled to come up with another lie. Then he just said: "I swear I was just in the basement!"

"Stop lying to me!" Boxter barked, louder than he'd intended. Because it hurt. Though he could understand, at least on some level, the super secret identity thing, he thought his son would trust him a little more.

It was inevitable. Even with all his stomping, Guy had managed to sneak himself home for months, but Boxter's voice was another matter. Both the doors to the main and Kelly's bedroom creaked open.

Kelly just blinked at she stepped out, still half asleep.

"Boxter? What's going on?" Droosha emerged from their bedroom, rubbing at her eyes. "I thought you were at work?"

"I was." Boxter didn't take his gaze from Guy. Maybe he'd wither under the scrutiny. "But I just came home and found someone out of bed. And no," he added quickly as Guy opened his mouth. "Don't try to tell me you were doing God knows what in the basement!"

"I was in the basement!" Guy snapped, fists tensing.

Like his son had any right to be mad! "You were out of the house, that's where you were!"

Droosha put a hand on his arm. "What?"

Boxter drew in a breath. She was right; he needed to try and calm down.

In the brief reprieve, Guy answered. "Dad's confused. I came out of the basement, I…"

Kelly, who seemed to have woken up a bit by now, quickly added: "Yeah, he probably was. He and Maz've got some dare going on, and…"

Boxter just stared at his daughter. She was in on this too? If she started covering for her brother, he had no hope of getting the truth out of either of them.

"Yeah," said Guy, "I mean, come on, Dad. If I was out I wouldn've come out of the basement. I would've come in through the front door."

Droosha frowned. "Did you see him when you were out on duty, Boxter?"

Boxter was looking at his son when she asked, and he was fairly certain it hit Guy then. His son's eyes widened and he drew in a quick breath. He knew he'd dropped the SheZow costume. He knew he'd left himself vulnerable. But did he want his son to tell him simply cause he knew he'd been caught?

"I'm… not sure," he finally said.

Guys shoulders noticeably slumped. "See? I told you I was…"

"You weren't any place when I came it!"

Droosha had her hand on his arm again. "Okay. Well, wherever you were Guy, it's the middle of the night. Go to bed. We can talk about this tomorrow."

Boxter nearly argued. But he was too angry. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. It was no mood to be dealing with this now. At least, not with his son. Not in the middle of the night. But Droosha would want to know what had happened, just not in front of the kids.

"Go on, son," he said, forcing himself to keep the anger out of his voice.

Guy darted past him, sharing a quick look with Kelly, before he shut his bedroom door. Kelly disappeared into her own room before Boxter could make eye contact with her.

Droosha stepped back towards their room, letting her hand rest on Boxter's arm a moment more before she stepped away. She knew he'd follow.

Boxter sighed and trailed behind her, pulling their door shut with a soft click.

"So what happened?" Droosha switched on her bedside lamp, then sat on the edge of the bed.

Boxter ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not even sure…" He winced at how vague that sounded. Like he was trying to hide something.

"You're home early from work. You're saying Guy was out… and you didn't say you definitely hadn't seen him when I asked…" Droosha shrugged. "So what happened?"

"I did see him," Boxter admitted, sinking onto the bed beside his wife. "I just…"

"What was he doing then? Who was he with? Was he doing anything…" Droosha trailed off, her hands tensing on the sheets.

"No, not like that…" Boxter said quickly. Now he was freaking her out. And that wasn't fair. "I saw…" he swallowed.

"Boxter, he's my son too."

"I know. I'm not trying to… I just…" Boxter huffed. He was overcomplicating this. He just had to come out and say it. "Guy… Guy is SheZow."

Droosha was silent for a long moment. Then: "That's… her secret identity… that's Guy? But Boxter, that's not… it's wonderful. He's helping people!"

"He's twelve! I don't care what powers he has; he shouldn't be out after dark!"

"Oh sweetheart, if he's got powers, he'll be fine."

"No, he won't. He's taking Maz out there with him. And he's been lying to us."

Droosha watched him for a moment, searching his eyes. "You're upset cause he lied to you," she finally said.

Boxter huffed. "Yeah, maybe. And I'm worried about him too. Superpowers or not."

"Look, we'll talk to him."

"I just tried talking to him."

"You shouted at him, Boxter. It's not the same thing."

He had, hadn't he? Well, how was he supposed to respond to something like that? Probably not so emotionally. Boxter put his head in one hand. "Yeah, I know. But can we just hold off letting him know, please?"

Droosha frowned. "So what? He lied to you, so you're going to lie to him? Try and catch him out…"

"No!" Boxter said quickly. "I just want him to tell me himself, Droosha. Can't we at least give him the chance to do that?" He looked up at her, and found she was smiling at him faintly.

"You're a sweetheart, you know that right? It's not that he doesn't trust you."

"Yeah, well sure feels like it."

"Okay. I won't tell him. But just so long as you promise to let me know what he's doing, okay? I'm sure he's able to keep himself safe."

"Thanks." Boxter sighed. He wasn't entirely comfortable about Guy's safety. But he wasn't going to argue about it. He had the advantage now. Guy didn't know he knew. He might be suspicious after tonight, but if he didn't directly confront him in the morning, he doubted he'd catch on. It'd give him the opportunity to see if there really was anything Guy was doing, as SheZow, that was dangerous or illegal. When he did tell him, he and Droosha would be that much more prepared to deal with it. And there'd be less chance Boxter would let his anger get the better of him and say something he'd regret.

"It'll be okay, Boxter," said Droosha, rubbing his arm. "It's a good thing; you'll see. So come to bed, even if you're supposed to be at work, you're here now, so might as well make good use of the time."

"i'm tired, and I'm still thinking too much about Guy," Boxter rolled his eyes. "I'm promising nothing."

"Settle down, I just meant snuggles."

"Sure."

* * *

 **A/n:** I am planning on sticking with the POV of the older characters for this one (and possibly giving away the fact I am too old to be writing fanfic XD). Let me know if this gets boring.


	3. Chapter 3

"What did you say about her cat now?" Wackerman was fidgeting, shifting his weight in his chair every three seconds. Behaving like they'd been called to the principal's office or something.

Boxter let out a huff and rolled his eyes. He was far less perturbed by the unexpected summons to Johansson's office. Some of the other cops, particularly the guys, seemed a little unsettled by the dectective at times. Though Boxter had noticed most of these were the ones who weren't married. If wasn't like she was going to bite. At worse, she had a habit of being unreadable, like you couldn't figure out whether she'd be helping you one minute, or shoving you onto night shift the next. But there was no reason to start getting worried until she actually told them what she wanted.

"Relax, Wackerman," he sighed. "Johansson doesn't hold grudges like that." Then out of sheer wickedness, he reached across her desk and started pushing her pens around in their holder.

Wackerman tensed. "Don't mess with her stuff!" he whispered harshly.

The door opened, and Wackerman literally jumped.

Boxter sighed, leaning back in his chair before he freaked his partner out completely. He had to do something to keep his mind off what he'd just found out about Guy, at least when he wasn't out on duty dealing with SheZow. But he actually was upsetting Wackerman, as silly as that was. And continuing to fiddle with Johansson's pens when she was actually in the room was just begging for trouble.

"Gentlemen," Johansson smiled at them and sat down, thunking a folder down on her desk.

"You gonna tell us we're stuck on night shift?" Boxter asked casually, glancing across to catch Wackerman's reaction as he did.

Wackerman shot him a glare and shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah, we didn't really mean the cat thing…"

Johansson looked at him and frowned. "What are you on about, Wackerman?"

"Um…"

"I was actually going to see if you two wanted to take on a… special assignment?"

Wackerman turned several shades paler. 'Special assignment' was particularly vague.

Still, they had done nothing warranting any of Johansson's sneaky reprimands; Wackerman was panicking again for no reason. Boxter glanced at Johansson, and she gave him the faintest hint of a smile. She wasn't on the warpath, she'd noticed Wackerman's apprehension and was stirring him up.

Boxter shrugged. "Yeah, we're game. What sort of assignment?"

Wackerman was trying to give him 'what are you doing to me' looks.

Johansson glanced at Wackerman one more time, but then she seemed to decide they'd both put him through enough. "It's to do with SheZow," she said. "I know you in particular, Hamdon, seem a lot more motivated to catch her than some of the other cops. We've got some new equipment, and I want to give it to someone who's actually going to use it for its intended purpose, rather than mucking about in it like it's their own personal boys' toy."

Boxter sat up a little straighter, and found himself momentarily lost for words. He would've been quick to volunteer as it was. But after what he'd found out last night, the last thing he wanted was some other cop finding out SheZow's identity. Or trying to catch 'her'. Guy could get hurt.

"SheZow?" said Wackerman. He relaxed a little. But then gave Boxter a look. "Um, Hamdon? What do you think, you know, cause…" he trailed off.

Boxter wouldn't have put it past his partner to actually add something like 'your son being SheZow and all'. "We'll do it," he said, before Wackerman could, or did something else just as stupid. "Show us this equipment."

* * *

Out in the station's parking lot sat a midnight blue Mustang. Johansson made a beeline for it.

"That's 'equipment'?" Boxter raised an eyebrow.

"No," said Johansson. "That's what you're going to use to run down SheZow's vehicle, after, you've used the 'equipment'. Let me show you."

Boxter scowled, before trailing behind her, trying to ignore the jealous stares of the couple other cops that were in the parking lot. Some of the other detectives had been a little cautious about giving him and Wackerman any of the newer cruisers, simply on the basis that SheZow seemed to keep destroying theirs at a higher rate than anyone else's.

He had to find out his son was SheZow the night before lucking out on the vehicle pool, didn't he?

The thought that this beast had the ability to get his son arrested made his stomach churn. What was he supposed to do? Let it do it's job - because he wasn't going to lie to himself, he really did want to find out what the equipment was, and how it might help him get the truth out of his son - or play along for a bit and then run the damn thing into a wall? Which would probably forever ruin his chances of being assigned any vehicle more powerful than a push bike.

"Not a Ford man, Hamdon?" Johansson asked, frowning as she paused with one hand on the driver's side door, and caught whatever look had been on his face.

"I was just thinking…" he drawled, as his mind searched for a cover, "… if we arrest SheZow, or anyone for that matter, where are we going to put them?"

Johansson glanced briefly at the rear seats, unfazed. "It's supposed to run down the Shehicle, you expect it to be practical? Come on, I'll show you." She climbed in the driver's side.

Boxter slipped into the passenger side, and nearly slammed the door behind him, except that Wackerman grabbed at it and fixed him with a frustrated glare. Come on, was he supposed to be fully with it with everything on his mind? "Sorry, buddy," he muttered anyway.

Johansson started up the engine and the vehicle shook and growled as it sprung to life.

"At least it sounds good," said Wackerman, leaning in through the passenger door.

"Not a toy, just remember that," said Johansson. "But tell me gents, what's the one thing that's going to stop you from chasing down that supercar, even with something this powerful?"

Boxter resisted the urge to groan. 'The fact it's being driven by my son' was the first thing on his mind. He wasn't in the mood for Johansson's games right now.

Luckily, that wasn't what Wackerman said, though Boxter wouldn't have put that past him either. "Bloody thing turns into a jet," he said. He swallowed and eyed the console warily. "I know a Mustang was a fighter jet… Please don't tell me this is too? I'm not good with heights."

"The department's not that poetic," Johansson shrugged. Instead, she turned her attention to a switch on the console that didn't quite match the rest of the interior. It was protected by a bright red flip cover, and she flicked this up. "Don't touch it," she said.

Wackerman had been reaching across Boxter's chest as she said it, and he pulled his hand back. "What's it do?"

"It activates something like an EMP. All you've got to do is get within twenty feet of the Shehicle's tail. Activate it, and I'm told it'll shut down the supercar's higher functions. She'll be able to drive, but not fly off, or use any of the vehicle's super gadgets on you. All it'll do is even the playing field - it won't stop her. But with this thing's engine, once that's done, you shouldn't have any problems running her down."

Would that be enough? If he caught his son, threatened to arrest him, would that be enough to scare him into telling him who he was? Surely he'd trust his father enough to ask for his help in a situation like that?

"Well?" Johansson pressed.

Wackerman was waiting for his reply too; after all, it wasn't his son.

"Yeah, we'll do it, Boxter growled. "It'll bloody serve her right to get caught. She's got to learn there're consequences to her actions."

"One more thing," Johansson said, leaning across so she could catch both Boxter's and Wackerman's eye, "you two be careful. I want you to run her down, but just because you've got a special assignment it doesn't mean normal rules don't apply. This thing's bloody powerful. You get SheZow in a chase that's dangerous, she's running you through highly populated areas, or driving crazy cause you've got her in a panic, you stop chasing her, you got it? I'd hate to lose… you know… the equipment."

Boxter couldn't help smiling faintly. "Got it." Despite all her strategising, sometimes Johansson did let slip she aggressively cared about all the cops under her. She was still doing the unreadable thing though; he wasn't sure whether she expected them to know she wasn't really talking about 'equipment'.

"Good." Johansson hoisted herself out of the car. "Take her for a spin; let me know how it goes. Oh, and Hamdon?"

"Yeah?"

"Stay out of my pens."

* * *

 **A/n:** Yes I like Mustangs. I'm buying one. :3 And this is the most fun I've had with an OC for awhile. I've got some original stuff I'm working on that may need an assertive female cop… might transplant Johansson's personality into there. XD


	4. Chapter 4

"Are you sure you're cool with this?" Wackerman was in the passenger seat, arm resting out the window as they powered along the freeway.

There had been no sign of SheZow. And it was starting to get late. Not that Boxter expected to see his son before his bedtime. If he was making a habit of sneaking out, he'd be doing it after everyone was asleep. So it was a good opportunity to test out the Mustang; get a feel for the machine before actually trying to run down SheZow with it.

"No. But the last thing I need is for Johansson to give this thing to one of the other cops. If anyone finds out Guy's SheZow…" His hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Sure you don't want to try it out?"

Wackerman shook his head. "I mean, yeah, of course I do. But I'm not chasing down your kid in it. You'll have to do that yourself."

Boxter glared at him sidelong. "I'm not going to do anything stupid, Wackerman. He's my son."

"Yeah, I know. But if I do something stupid, you'll never forgive me. I've seen you toss someone across the bonnet, man. You're a big guy."

"Huh?" Boxter searched his memory for a moment. "You mean that piece of shit that was trying to drag kids into his van? Of course I thumped him! I wouldn't toss you across the bonnet…"

"Yeah, but that's what I mean. If I did something to hurt one of your kids, even if it was an accident? I know how much you care about them."

Boxter scowled. But he wasn't confident that he might not, so he said nothing.

"Hey, it's fine. I get you're worried. But I'm not going to say anything about SheZow being your son. I don't know what we'll do when you eventually get it out of him though. Johansson's gonna want results," he shrugged. "But you know… don't you think this might be a bit overboard? Yeah, we've got Johansson's equipment to take down the Shehicle, but you know who SheZow is. Wouldn't it be easier to just let him know? I mean, we're supposed to do whatever we can to avoid dangerous chases."

"You don't get it, Wackerman!" Boxter snapped. "I want him to tell me himself. If I tell him I know, it messes everything up…"

"Hey, I'm just trying to help! I get it's complicated."

"No, you don't. You don't have kids," Boxter huffed.

Wackerman was quiet for a moment. "Do you actually want my help?" he finally said. "Or do you just want me to sit in the passenger seat and shut up?"

"No, I'm sorry," Boxter sighed. He knew he was flustered; his whole body felt tense. Didn't mean he had to take it out on his partner. "I'm just worried about what Johannson wants too. You're right, she'll expect results. So I probably will need your help."

"Hell, she sweeps stuff under the rug all the time, so she can't complain if we do it," Wackerman huffed. "I'm not letting on your son's SheZow, promise. But just promise me you won't make it hard by behaving like an idiot? I'll cover for your son, but… just don't make it hard okay?"

"I'll try. Thanks." Boxter smiled faintly. He supposed it was lucky it had been Wackerman in the car with him when they'd seen SheZow transform into his son. His partner might not be the sharpest crayon in the box, but he trusted him with his life.

The two-way crackled to life. _"We've got a superhero situation down at the Megadale ice cream factory. SheZow…"_

Boxter needed to hear nothing more. He slammed his foot to the floor and the Mustang leapt forward with an unexpected surge of power. He let off a bit and wrestled the steering back under control. Oh yeah, this was going to be more than enough to chase down his son.

* * *

They screeched into the parking lot of the Megadale ice cream factory in record time. Despite his apprehension, Boxter could feel a smile tugging at his lips. Not just from the adrenaline rush of being in control of the Mustang. Guy wasn't going to know what hit him.

He and Wackerman hauled themselves from the car and slammed the doors. Before them, the factory was looking a little more icy than was normal. Icicles hung from the windows higher up. A cackle carried to them on the night air, followed by a splintering crash.

"When did trying to arrest actual villains with actual powers become normal, huh?" Wackerman groaned. Superpowers were not fun. I mean, getting shot or stabbed was probably worse, but ending up half frozen or covered in snot was just plain embarrassing.

"Yeah, well I didn't think I'd be trying to arrest my son, did I? Come on." They jogged around the edge of the building, where the cackle had come from.

And then drew up short. Boxter grabbed Wackerman's shoulder and hauled him back, just as a flurry of ice crystals shot past and impaled the building wall across the lot.

"Shit…" Wackerman said hoarsely. Okay, so getting stabbed by ice crystals was probably worse than just a regular stabbing. Boxter gripped his partner's shoulder for a few seconds more; he could still feel him shaking.

SheZow and Coldfinger were having it out in the parking lot beside the factory. The big roller doors behind Coldfinger were already frozen over. The sheet of ice spread out across the lot to Coldfinger's feet. Ice and snow were swirling around the villains outstretched hands.

SheZow - his son - was standing in front of him, back to them, legs apart in a fighting stance. His hands balled up into fists. "You're all iced up, Coldfinger!

"Oh God…" Boxter felt himself flush. It was the weirdest feeling. He was angry and frustrated - like he usually was whenever he ran into SheZow. But stronger than even those emotions was the sheer embarrassment that hit him as soon as he saw his son. 'Iced up'? Did he know how stupid that sounded? And he couldn't take his eyes off that outfit. How had he ever been fooled? It didn't have any, you know, shape or anything! It wasn't like he'd ever looked at SheZow in any sort of way to notice that sort of thing. But somehow now he found himself staring so hard at his son it almost felt wrong.

"Quit mucking around and take him down, SheZow!"

The Shehicle was parked a short distance away. And Kelly was leaning out the door and shouting across the lot at Guy. Boxter fists tensed. Okay, that was it. First Maz. Now Kelly? Guy might think it was fine to go gallivanting around and putting himself in danger. But if he wanted to drag his sister into it he had another think coming.

"Kelly!" He barked, his voice carrying across the expanse of the lot.

Kelly looked over and saw him, let out a little meep and ducked back down behind the Shehicle's door.

"I can still see you, missy!"

It wasn't often he scared his daughter enough that she didn't have a crack at out-talking or out-smarting him. But then it wasn't often she did anything that got him riled up enough, she knew there was no out.

Guy had seen him too. He glanced between the Boxter and Kelly and swallowed hard. Then he said: "Oh, Officer Hamdon, I didn't know you were on duty…" In that damn SheZow voice. So that's how he wanted to play it? Fine.

"You've got a lot of nerve, you know that don't you, SHEZOW," Boxter growled. "You think I'm going to let you stomp all over our turf? Think I'm going to let you destroy buildings…"

"That was Coldfinger!" Guy snapped, pointing his finger at the villain.

"… and mess around with my family!" Boxter continued, not in the slightest perturbed. "This is dangerous!"

Guy rolled his eyes. "Pfft. It's just Coldfinger!"

"Hey!" Coldfinger snorted. "I can be dangerous!"

"I'm not worried about you, you're a bloody joke," Boxter snapped. Probably didn't pay to go around insulting villains, even if it was just Coldfinger. But he was on a roll and it was easy. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you could get into out here at night? Well, the Megadale Police Department is here, and I'm arresting all of you! Yeah, you too," he growled at Kelly, as she stuck her head cautiously out of the Shehicle. Might as well throw that out there. Maybe Guy would tell the truth to get his sister out of trouble.

"And you," he pointed right at his son, "can damn well explain what you think you're doing out here with my daughter in the middle of the night!"

Guy took a half step back. So he'd scared him, even just a little? Good. He should be scared. If he was, maybe he would stop behaving like an idiot.

"Uh uh. I ain't going to jail," said Coldfinger. He powered up a flurry of ice crystals.

"Not again…" Wackerman took a step back.

Before Coldfinger could hurl his attack Guy whirled around and let out a supersonic shriek. Coldfinger tumbled over himself and was flung smack bang into the roller door behind him. He slid down with a groan and slumped to the ground.

"There you go," said Guy with a grin. Still with the voice. "I saved you. What do you say we call it even and…"

"Oh no," Boxter growled. Then he drew in a breath. Okay. He had to calm down and try and think clearly. Maybe he had him. "But… yeah, okay, you did save us. So I might be a little bit more understanding. But only if you let me know exactly what's going on here." It was an open-ended question. No pressure; Guy could tell him anything he wanted. But that's what he really wanted - his son to tell him off his own back.

Guy watched him for a moment. The cheesy grin had fallen from his face. He knew this was serious. "Um… sorry, Officer Hamdon. I can't."

Boxter's fists tensed at his sides. "Then I'm going to have to arrest you, aren't I!" He took a step forward.

Guy backed off towards the Shehicle. "I'm not going to let you arrest me…"

"Yeah? What are you going to do about it?" Boxter wasn't sure what he was going to do when he got to his son. He sure as hell wasn't going to strong-arm him, or anything like that. Not that he had any chance of hurting SheZow. Even knowing that, he knew he could never do it.

He was also fairly certain Guy wouldn't hurt him. What he was hoping for was to get his son to give it up and tell him who he was, before he got to him. Otherwise they'd probably just end up inches apart and staring pretty awkwardly at each other.

But they didn't get that far. Guy did panic. But instead of spilling his guts, he opened his mouth and let out another supersonic shriek.

Boxter hit the pavement, his ears ringing. He was dizzy but briefly, and then his vision cleared to the Shehicle burning rubber as it fought for traction and tore away.

"You okay?" Wackerman grabbed his arm and hauled him up. At least that's what Boxter thought he said; his head was still throbbing.

"He actually attacked me!" Boxter said, shoving off Wackerman and straightening his collar. He rubbed at the side of his head. "Little…"

"Yeah, but not that hard, I'm guessing. I don't think he was trying to hurt you. I mean, look at Coldfinger. He's still out cold."

Boxter glared at him.

"That wasn't a pun. I mean, jeesh, I told you, you're a big guy. You were pretty angry; you probably just spooked him."

"We can still catch him." Boxter headed back towards the Mustang, wishing they'd parked closer. But then, Guy still wouldn't know that had anything better than the standard cruiser.

"Hamdon…" Wackerman groaned.

Boxter stopped at the driver's door. "You don't have to come, alright? I won't tell Johansson."

Wackerman said nothing, just pulled open the passenger door and climbed in.

Fine by him. Boxter started the car's beefy engine and ripped away in the direction the Shehicle had gone. He could still catch them. He was finishing this now.

* * *

 **A/n:** Poor Kelly. She knows she's busted and Guy's still in the dark. XD I'm thinking of changing the title. I know where this is going now, and there will not be any more staking out. It's getting far more aggressive than that. Mostly due to the choice in vehicle… and Boxter's emotions. D: Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

The Mustang skidded out onto the highway, back end slewing out briefly. Boxter winced as he felt the traction and stability systems fighting him. Stupid thing. It straightened out and they powered down in the direction the Shehicle had taken. Guy couldn't be that far ahead.

"You sure you want to do this now?" said Wackerman.

Boxter glanced across at his partner briefly. He was gripping the door handle a little too tightly. "Relax, he can't have gone far…" He turned his attention to the road, searching the fast approaching taillights of the other vehicles. He'd know the Shehicle when he saw it.

"No, I mean, you know your daughter's in on this. That gives you plenty of excuse to talk to her… see if you can get your son to tell you that way…"

"You scared of this car or something?" Boxter growled. None of those taillights were the Shehicle.

Guy couldn't have known he was being chased. Wherever he was he had to be driving fast, and for no reason at all.

"You never nearly ran some dumb kid into a wall. It's scary, believe me," said Wackerman. "I'm just saying, if you think you need to do this, you've got to be careful…"

Boxter scowled. "I know what I'm doing." There were a set of taillights ahead moving considerably faster than the other vehicles. But he was gaining on them. Just. Boxter pushed his foot towards the floor and they crept closer.

It was definitely the Shehicle. Guy was passing other vehicles on the road like they were standing still, weaving between the lanes. He cut across someone's nose a little too tightly to the blare of their horn.

"Do you really think it's a good idea to leave someone on the road who drives like that!" Boxter snapped. "I'm getting him off. Both for his sake and everyone else. Hell, even if he won't tell me at least he won't be able to drive like that. Come on, you'd want to chase someone driving like that if we randomly ran into them!" What the hell was Guy thinking?

"Yeah, I know," Wackerman sighed. He sat up a little straighter and looked out the windshield. Well, at least he'd stopped pouting. "Alright. How about you sneak up behind him and try out that equipment? We're unmarked and he didn't see the vehicle before. Maybe it'll work really well, and stuff up everything enough he's got to pull over?"

"Yeah, here's hoping." Boxter pushed the Mustang again, and slid into the Shehicle's wake. He was keeping up, but not quite at twenty feet. He edged closer, concentrating as he tried to keep up with his son's erratic lane changes.

The Shehicle roared and sped up, pulling across right in front of them.

"What the hell are you…"

"Maybe he just thinks we're a street car…" said Wackerman.

"You mean he's trying to race us?!" Boxter had had it. Superheroing after dark was one thing; at least then Guy was trying to do the right thing. But here was his son driving like an idiot for no reason. He was finishing this now. Boxter brought the Mustang closer still.

Guy didn't tear off. He just kept his tail end in front of their nose. You didn't need to outrun a street car, just stop it passing you. Which made Boxter's job that much easier. He crept up until he was almost nose to tail with the Shehicle's bumper. Then he flipped up the safety cover and triggered the toggle switch.

The Mustang let out a whumph that bounced the front suspension. Boxter wrestled with the steering briefly, but they were in no danger; he quickly bought the vehicle back under control.

The Shehicle gave a little wobble, its tyres squeaked on the road, but otherwise it appeared unharmed.

"Think it worked?" said Wackerman.

"Let's find out." Boxter crept back into position on the Shehicle's tail, and then flicked on the light bar built into the ceiling of the Mustang. The wail of the siren and the flash of blue and red pierced the night air.

They were close enough to the Shehicle that Boxter could see into its cabin. Kelly looked over the side of her seat, then reached across and slapped Guy's shoulder. Boxter was fairly certain they could see him too. If not, the light bar was more than enough to let them know they were in trouble.

Or, it should have been. The Shehicle let out a roar and shot forward.

"Son of a….!" Boxter cut himself short. Couldn't call his own son that. But he'd still be getting a mouthful when they finally pulled up. He stomped his foot to the floor and shot after them.

Guy roared forward, towards a hump in the road ahead. Technically, had you been doing the speed limit, it would have been nothing but a gentle rise and fall. At the high speed, the Shehicle shot over the top, actually gaining about four feet of air under its tyres. It rumbled, shaking in the air, and a swirl of pink began to envelope it.

"It comes with sparkles, seriously?" Boxter growled. So much for Johansson's equipment.

But instead of transforming into the SHE-C-10 the engine revs dropped with a sick splutter and the Shehicle smashed back down onto the road. Slewed, and then came back under Guy's control. The erratic lane changes stopped for a moment though. Yeah, he knew something was wrong.

Boxter crept up around Guy's left side, trying to urge him to pull over. "Come on, you know you're done…" He was close enough that he saw Guy look at him. And yeah, he looked a bit panicked.

"Pull over!" Boxter mouthed, pointing to the side of the road.

Guy's eyes narrowed and that scared look vanished from his eyes. He made direct eye contact with his father.

"No, don't!" Boxter barked.

Guy pushed the stick up a notch. Looked right at his father as he did, with an expression reminiscent of the time when he'd been four, and Boxter had told him 'don't touch the stove'. The Shehicle tore off again, heading to the right, and took off down the nearest exit.

"Hamdon…" Wackerman began.

"Johansson gave us this car to chase down SheZow!" Boxter growled. "That's what it's for; that's what I'm going to do." He threw them hard to the right at the last moment, and they slipped down the exit hot on the Shehicle's tail.

* * *

They were powering down side streets and cutting corners. Much the same as a usual car chase, the perpetrator pulling every trick in the book to try and gain an advantage to slip away. But perhaps hitting twice the usual speed. Both car engines screamed. Guy had to know his father wasn't letting off. Each twist and turn he was still there.

"Come on, pull over!" Boxter shouted, even though Guy couldn't hear him.

His son took a corner particularly hard, slewing around it. Boxter followed him, struggling to hold the Mustang through the corner. He accelerated out. Or tried to. And felt the bloody stability tug back on the power yet again. Lost a half dozen feet on the Shehicle. "Stupid fucking machine!" He located the switch on the centre console and tripped off all the safety systems.

"Hamdon…" Wackerman began.

"Stop whinging! We've been trained to do this. Did we need all this fancy crap doing that?"

"This isn't training!"

"Hang on, I've nearly got him. I think he's slowing down."

The Shehicle slowed a little, then hung hard to the left.

"Damn it!" Boxter threw the Mustang into the left turn as well. This time it slewed even harder, but with the safety systems off it didn't take any power from the wheels. It executed a near perfect slide and came out hard on the Shehicle's tail. "That's better."

Guy had given up on the sharp corners. He'd found a wider, straighter street. One that led right towards the city. He accelerated away. He was going to try get away on the Shehicle's power again.

"No you don't." Boxter stomped on the accelerator. Faster and faster. He threw the gear stick into sixth. Well, Johansson had come through. They were definitely running the Shehicle down. Both vehicles were screaming but they were slowly gaining.

"Hamdon," Wackerman said through gritted teeth. "We're going too fast."

"It's fine…"

"What the hell are you going to do when you catch him up?" Wackerman snapped. "Don't you get it? He's not pulling over. And he's your son for goodness sakes! How can you…"

"Shut up!" Boxter barked. "You don't have kids!"

Wackerman glared at him. "Really, you're pulling that one on me? Maybe not, but I do have common sense."

"Good for you."

"For the love of… alright, I'm calling it."

Boxter's hands were just about locked on the steering wheel as it was. But at Wackerman's words they tensed even tighter. "What?" he growled thickly.

"I said I'm calling it! This chase is too dangerous. As your partner, I'm no longer in agreement this is safe. We're heading into the city; we're doing twice the bloody speed limit!"

"Son of a bitch," Boxter's growled under his breath. They'd been partners for nearly four years. And once they'd settled into each others way of doing things, they'd never really bothered doing all the official crap, at least as much as they'd been able to get away with. They knew they could settle things without pulling rank on each other. And Wackerman was doing this to him now?!

"Will you just fucking listen to me?! Yeah, I'm making it official. Pull over!"

"No." Boxter stomped harder on the accelerator. Not that there was much more he could get out of it. He pulled up on the Shehicle's left side, still creeping up closer towards its nose. But hell, he was faster. Guy had to realise he was finished now. All he needed was a few more seconds. And his son would realise he was beat and pull over.

Wackerman reached across, making a grab for the two-way. What, he was going to tell on him now?!

"Get out of it!" Boxter balled up his fist and swiped backhanded across the cab. His fist slammed hard into Wackerman's chest and knocked him up against the window.

Wackerman grunted and rubbed at his chest. He was flushed, and he swallowed hard before he finally replied. "Just so you know, I'm asking for a new partner in the morning. Assuming we're not dead!"

Boxter swallowed. Damn it all. He only needed a few more seconds! He turned his attention back to the road. Just in time to see the Shehicle start drifting across towards them.

"Hamdon!" Wackerman sat up in his seat.

The two cars hit. The Mustang's nose swung into the left side back end of the Shehicle. Tyres squealed. Boxter wrestled with the steering. He'd turned off the stability systems; he was by himself. They slewed hard to the left, then his frantic wrestling began to have an effect and the car shot back into his control. They swung wildly across the road and skidded to a halt, the smell of burnt rubber filling the air.

But Boxter's attention wasn't on their miraculous escape. It was on the Shehicle. As the supercar went into violent, uncontrollable oversteer. It slewed around almost a hundred and eighty degrees before tipping over a front wheel. It rolled over twice, landed on its roof, then continued to skid across the asphalt under speed until it crunched into a light pole and came to rest.

"Oh God." Wackerman was the first to speak. It roused Boxter from the stupor that had come over him.

"Kelly! Guy!" Boxter's voice cracked. He found himself scrambling with he door handle, tripping out of the Mustang, making his way over to the stricken Shehicle. The supercar was still; he saw no movement whatsoever.

* * *

 **A/n:** Okay, please review? Yes it's okay if you want to kick Boxter. I'm just going to be over here editing this next chapter, which I'm just going to apologise for in advance.


	6. Chapter 6

Boxter fell to his knees at the side of the Shehicle. It was upside down, the roof crunched in, with barely a foot of space between the top of the door and the road surface. "Guy! Kelly!" He heaved at the edge of the vehicle, but only succeeded in rocking it slightly.

Something moved in the cabin, a flash of pink. Guy heaved himself out from under the edge of the door.

Boxter's heart skipped a beat. "Guy!" He grabbed his son and threw his arms around him. "You're okay."

"Dad…?" Guy's voice was thin. There was no hint of the pitch he put on for SheZow. But it was shaking. "I, I… I'm sorry, I…"

Boxter drew back and held him by the arms. "What the hell were you thinking?"

Guy swallowed hard. There were tears in his eyes. "Dad, I just… Kelly…"

Boxter's attention snapped back to the Shehicle. "Kelly!" No response. He got back down on his knees and tried to see into the interior, but it was too dark to make out anything.

He felt Guy move up beside him. "I'll… I'll just pick it up and…"

"No!" Boxter barked. He held up a hand to push his son back. "No, just leave it…" The Shehicle was a mess. He had no idea how much damage had been done to it. How it might have… been pinning… "Just leave it alone, you've done enough already."

Guy hugged himself and took a step back. He flinched as he bumped up against Wackerman.

Wackerman grasped him by the shoulders and held onto him. "It's alright. Just let your Dad check it out," he said gently.

Guy swallowed and nodded, pressing back against him.

Boxter got back on his knees, then lay down on the road and wedged himself under the gap between the road and the door. His shoulders made it a tight fit. He had to wiggle himself through, ignoring metal and gravel and shattered glass threatening to tear through his uniform. He grunted and got the top of his body into the Shehicle's cabin. Then it was a little easier to move around.

He wiggled himself around to the passenger side. "Kelly?"

There was a faint whimper from the upside down seat. Boxter let out a deep breath. "Sweetheart, you okay?"

It took Kelly a second to reply, a little dazed. "Dad?"

"Yeah, honey, I'm here." Boxter squirmed around onto his back. He could see her now as his eyes adjusted to the dark interior. She still had her seatbelt on, thank God, keeping her up above the bitumen below. But he couldn't see if she was hurt or not. He shifted himself closer and reached up, feeling for her. "You okay?"

Again, she took a little while to reply. "Yeah," she finally said, and then choked over a sob.

"Aw sweetheart." Boxter felt his chest tighten.

"I want to get down."

"Okay, hang on."

Boxter shifted himself right under her. She was low enough that he could support her head on his shoulder. He didn't want to drop her. "You hurting anywhere?"

"Yeah… just get me down…"

Boxter swallowed hard. His hands were shaking as he reached up and searched for the buckle. He hoped it wasn't broken. He found it, then got an arm around her back. He was more than strong enough to support her weight, but the position he was in was awkward as hell. "I don't know if this is going to hurt, okay? You ready?"

"Yeah."

Boxter undid the buckle and Kelly slid down on top of him. He was trying his best to cushion her fall but she still fell into his chest with a thump that made him wince.

Kelly whimpered and scrunched up against him, her body trembling like a leaf. She buried her face in his neck and began to cry.

"It's okay, Daddy's got you." Boxter wrapped his arms right around her and held her as tight as he dared. He squeezed his eyes shut; there was a knot in his throat but it didn't seem to want to work its way out just yet. The wail of sirens carried on the night air, growing closer. "Hang in there, honey. We'll be out of here soon."

"Hamdon! The ambulance is coming. Is she… you alright under there?"

Boxter opened his eyes and stared up at the dark interior of the car. "I'm… yeah, we need the ambulance. We need to get her out… but she's okay."

Kelly still clung to him. Her sobs were becoming quieter.

"Just… just try and stay awake for me, okay?" He didn't know how badly she was hurt; didn't know whether he needed to keep her conscious. But she was conscious; so that was good, right?

A screech of tyres announced the arrival of the ambulance. Within moments they had jacked up the edge of the Shehicle enough for Boxter to pass out Kelly and squeeze out himself. They loaded her into the ambulance and Boxter stepped up behind her.

"Hamdon…" Wackerman grabbed him by the arm.

"I'm going with her," Boxter said hoarsely.

"I know. But, your son, I'm sorry… he took off as soon as the ambulance came…"

"He ran away?" For a second Boxter couldn't believe it. "Is he hurt?"

"Physically? No. But…"

Boxter snatched his arm back. "Well I can't worry about him right now."

Wackerman looked at his feet and cussed under his breath. "Look, I was just going to ask if you wanted me to try track him down…"

"Just follow us to the hospital, okay?" Boxter climbed into the back of the ambulance.

The paramedic in the back turned to him. "It's alright, Officer. We've got this under control…"

"She's my daughter," Boxter said through gritted teeth. He fought to keep his fists at his side; the man was only doing his job.

The paramedic backed down immediately. "Shit. I'm sorry, get in here."

Kelly was curled up on the bed in the back, hugging her middle.

"Was she hugging herself like that before?" the paramedic asked, moving to her side.

"No, she was hugging me. What else would she do; she's hurt!"

"Okay…" He reached for the edge of her shirt.

"What are you doing?" Boxter snapped.

"I just need to check where she's hurt…"

Boxter swallowed down every instinct rearing up, telling him to get over there and protect his daughter, and just nodded. The man lifted up the bottom of her shirt, not far, but Boxter still turned away. She was nearly thirteen. She didn't want her father staring at her. But not before he saw the purple bruise across her stomach and chest.

"Hey! Get us moving! Now!" The paramedic shouted at the driver. "She might be bleeding internally," he said to Boxter. He'd pulled her shirt back down.

Boxter's body tensed up again. "Well, can't you do something about it?"

"Yeah, drive faster," he sighed. "Sorry, I just need to check she hasn't ruptured something major, you might want to get over here and hold her."

Boxter came around to stand next to the man. He didn't bother arguing anymore. He had been at enough accident scenes to know an overprotective parent didn't help. Whatever the medic was about to do was going to hurt his daughter, but he wouldn't be doing it if he didn't have to. Asking what it was wouldn't help. Only make it take longer. Boxter just took both Kelly's hands in one of his, stroking her hair with the other.

"Hang on, sweetie," said the medic, "this might hurt a bit." He pressed a hand against her side and pushed in gently but deep. He moved his hand across her stomach and did it again.

Boxter could feel Kelly tense up; her breathing grew more rapid.

"Nearly done…" he was moving quickly, but he had to be hurting her.

"Daddy…" Kelly cried and dug her fingernails into Boxter's hand.

Boxter felt something inside him tear. "Just hold onto me how much it hurts, okay?" he said hoarsely.

"I'm sorry," the medic swallowed, finally pulling his hands away. "I'm done. Just stay with her."

He moved away, started talking into his phone with the hospital, and barking at the driver. He didn't tell Boxter what was wrong, and Boxter didn't ask. He knew he couldn't do anything, and he almost didn't want to know.

Kelly was crying again, her chest heaving.

Boxter kept holding her hands, moved his other around her back and put his body protectively over her. He fought back tears. He was more scared than he'd been in his entire life but he wasn't going to break down when his daughter needed him so badly. He swallowed hard and pushed down everything threatening to tear loose. Not now. "Just hang on, sweetheart," he finally said, once he trusted his voice. "I'm not leaving you."

* * *

 **A/n:** Please review.


	7. Chapter 7

"Here. I brought you a coffee." Wackerman sat down across from Boxter and passed over a paper cup.

Boxter just stared at it. His throat was dry. "They're cutting her open."

"Yeah, I know," Wackerman said gently. "But that means they're fixing her. They know what they're doing. It'll be okay."

"She doesn't… she doesn't cry when she's hurt. Not like that."

The two cops sat in the hospital's cafeteria. It was late, fairly quiet, with hardly anyone there. Wackerman had convinced Boxter he wouldn't gain anything by hanging around outside the operating theatre. Now that Kelly was at the hospital, the doctors had told him her chances were really good. And they could still let him know if anything was happening; he was still in the hospital. In truth, Boxter had almost been glad to get away from the immediate vicinity. At least Wackerman had suggested it, so he felt a little less guilty about it. But not much.

Boxter finally managed to pick up the coffee and downed half of it in a gulp. He winced. It didn't do well with the knot in his stomach; his guts were cramped up and he felt sick. And it tasted like crap. But he ignored it. All he could see was Kelly crunching up and grabbing onto him with her eyes squeezed tightly shut. It was nothing on what she'd been feeling.

He drew in a breath and shook the image from his head. "I need to call Droosha." He picked up his phone and stared at it. Then just dropped it on the table next to the cup of coffee and put his head in his hands. "What the hell am I supposed to tell her?" he said, his voice thick.

"You don't have to do it right away. She's probably asleep anyway. Finish your coffee."

Wackerman was giving instructions, but Boxter found he didn't care. He could barely think for himself at the moment. But he was going to have even less control over the impending conversation than he thought. His phone began to buzz on the table and Droosha's number flashed back at him.

Boxter swallowed hard and looked up at Wackerman. "I can't ignore her." He stood to his feet and moved away from the table, away from the few other people, mostly nurses, in the cafeteria this late. "Hey…" And that was all he could say. After everything that had happened, he didn't even know where to start.

"Sorry to bug you at work, honey," Droosha's voice came to him. "But I thought you should know, I checked on the kids and they're both out. So Kelly's in on this too…" She drew in a sigh. "Well, at least we know what they're doing. So don't worry too much but if you're still set on getting Guy to talk to you, just make it quick, okay? It's dangerous for both of them and I don't want anything to happen to them."

At least he was right next to a wall. Boxter leaned one shoulder against it as he felt his head spin. He swallowed hard, but his throat was dry, and he still didn't know what to say.

Inevitable, Droosha sensed his mood. Even over the phone. "Boxter? What's wrong?"

"I'm… I'm at the hospital," he finally managed to say.

"Oh, sweetheart! What happened; are you okay?"

"No. I mean, yeah. I'm not… not for me. Honey, Kelly got in a car accident. In the Shehicle."

"What?" Droosha's voice crackled and choked over the line.

Boxter squeezed his eyes shut and leaned harder against the wall. He had to put her through every emotion he'd just experienced. At least she hadn't been in that ambulance, hadn't seen how much pain Kelly had been in. At least he could try and make it sound like it wasn't that bad. "She's… she's okay."

"Well, where is she?"

"She's still in surgery."

"Boxter, that's not okay!"

"I know; she'll be okay though."

He could hear her crying on the other end. He hugged himself with his free arm.

"Tell me what happened," she said. "How the hell did the Shehicle get in a car accident?! It's a bloody supercar."

"Yeah, that's probably the problem," Boxter said, gritting his teeth. "I'm sorry. It all happened so fast. We were… I knew Kelly and Guy were in there and I couldn't just let them keep driving like that. I tried to get them to pull over."

"Wait, you were chasing them?"

"I… yeah…"

"I knew I never should have let you fluff around getting Guy to tell you!" Droosha exploded. "We should've stopped what he was doing right away! One bloody night and you run them both off the road!"

"I'm a cop! They were breaking the law! I can't let someone drive like that!"

"Don't give me that fascist crap! They're your own kids!"

"You don't think I know that? Why do you think I had to get them off? They might've…" Boxter drew in a breath as he realised what he'd been going to say. He hung his head. And then said it anyway. "… they might've got hurt."

"Well, congratulations, you got them off, didn't you? Where the hell is Guy?"

"I don't know. But he didn't get hurt. He's got superpowers; I guess that's why he thought he could drive like he's bloody invincible."

"Don't you dare try and pin this on Guy. He's just a kid. And if you don't know where he is, go out and find him!"

Boxter drew in a breath. "Yeah, I know." Despite everything Guy had done, he had to find his son and let him know Kelly was going to be okay. And give him a piece of his mind. "But look, I don't know if you want to come down; I can wait for you and…"

"Of course I'm coming down. And don't wait for me, get out there and find our son. If you're there when I arrive, I can't promise I'm not going to slap you!" The call cut off.

Boxter drew in a breath, then took his weight off the wall. He headed back to Wackerman.

"You okay?"

"No."

"Droosha's mad at you, isn't she?"

"Of course she's mad. Her daughter's in the hospital; she's scared and upset and…" Boxter swallowed hard. He knew exactly how his wife felt; he didn't blame her. "And she can yell at me all she wants if it helps her feel better. It doesn't even hurt; I've got too many other things to worry about right now."

"Look, Hamdon, I'm so sorry…"

"Don't. Just not now, please? I'm going to take the Mustang. I need to go out and find Guy."

"Yeah, he's going to be pretty messed up right now."

"He will be when I'm through with him…"

Wackerman glared at him. "Okay, what's your problem?"

"My daughter's in there getting cut open!" Boxter barked. "And I can't do a damn thing about it!"

Wackerman winced and put a hand to the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean… aw, man, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Boxter sunk back into his chair. "I know."

"Look, I'm not trying to be a jerk. Just don't take this out on your son."

"He ran away," Boxter growled, his voice low.

"What?"

"He ran away. He crashed his car and he was fine. And then he just ran away! And left his sister! How could he do that!?"

Wackerman groaned. "He crashed the goddamned car because you rear ended him!"

"But I didn't run… I mean, didn't he want me to find out it was him? How is that more important than his sister?"

"How is your damn ego more important than your son?" Wackerman countered. "He ran because he was scared. I had him there when you were under the car with Kelly. He was terrified! He was driving that car. He thinks it's his fault. And it wasn't. It was ours. We're the adults; we're the cops; we're supposed to be the responsible ones. He flew off because he couldn't face you. And it was probably a good thing he did!

"Look, Hamdon, I'm sorry. Cause I know you're really, really hurting right now, and I'm being a complete jerk. But don't go out there and mess things up for yourself even more by hurting your son too!"

Boxer swallowed and hung his head. "It wasn't our fault," he said quietly.

"Come on! He's your son… he's twelve, how's he supposed to know any better…"

"Yeah, and it wasn't his fault. But it wasn't ours either. It was mine. You told me to stop the car and I didn't. And if there's an investigation don't you dare say otherwise."

Wackerman calmed down. He drew in a breath and then just leaned back in his chair, folding his arms tightly across his chest. "I should've grabbed the damn wheel. At least then might've just put us into the wall."

Boxter drew in a breath. "Yeah, probably…" He could feel that knot welling up in his throat again. "Kelly's in there right now because we didn't pull off… I should've listened to you…"

Wakcerman was looking at him again. "Aw, man… Hamdon…"

Boxter stood to his feet. He didn't want his partner looking at him like that. "I'm going to go find Guy," he said, hearing his voice crack.

Wackerman stood to his feet as well. "Hey, you going to be alright out there? I can…"

"Can you just stay, at least until Droosha gets here? Make sure you tell her you tried to stop me otherwise she'll probably want to flatten you too."

"I'll stay," said Wackerman firmly. "All night if I have to."

Boxter swallowed and looked at the floor.

"Hey," Wackerman put a hand on his shoulder. Then just huffed and pulled him into a hug.

It was unexpected. But Boxter didn't realise how much he needed it until that moment. He sagged against his partner's shoulder and squeezed him back tight, holding onto him for a long moment. Then he cleared his throat and pulled back. If he hung on too long he knew he'd lose it completely.

"Just call me if you need anything, okay?" said Wackerman.

Boxter nodded. "Call me if anything… happens…"

"Yeah, I know."

* * *

Boxter pulled out of the hospital parking lot in the Mustang. He ignored the tug in his chest telling him to go back. Wackerman was there; Droosha would be soon too. Kelly was being taken care of. But he had to find his son. Guy was probably hurting too. And he wouldn't have put it past him to have gotten himself into trouble.

How the hell was his son SheZow? How did that even work? And how had this spun so out of control? He couldn't blame his son anymore. Wackerman had knocked that into his head good and proper. He was supposed to be the responsible one. But he didn't feel responsible; didn't feel like he was doing the whole adult thing properly. He'd caused that accident. Smacked his partner up against the window for no reason, and then gone and run his kids off the road. How the hell was that responsible?!

Boxter felt like a fraud. And a failure, and completely out of his depth. He could barely handle his own emotions right now, far less anything else. No wonder Droosha was mad at him. He didn't feel like he was old enough to deal with all this. But the kids were nearly teenagers. How had all that time gone so quickly? Some days he still felt like he was stumbling his way through the whole parenting thing, but at least he usually got it right.

He'd thought he was far from the man who'd panicked when his wife told him she was pregnant. With twins, no less. And tried to laugh at his buddies 'two-shot Hamdon' joke, which had nothing whatsoever to do with his use of a police issue firearm, all the while wondering how the hell he was going to pull off being a father. But he'd never thought he'd do something like this. Not even back then.

 _"What the hell were you thinking?! You've done enough already!"_ His words to Guy came back to him. Boxter shuddered and winced. If he felt like this, how the hell did Guy feel? Even if he still thought it was a little bit his fault, he didn't care. He just wanted to find his son and let him know it was okay; he wasn't mad, he didn't blame him. Because he wanted someone to do the same for him.

Boxter shuddered as the image of the Shehicle flipping filled his mind. Then of Kelly curled up in the back of the ambulance in so much pain all she could do was cling to him. He'd done that. He swallowed hard, and braced himself in case he needed to pull over. He nearly did.

But then he just drew in a breath. "Okay, suck it up, Hamdon. Stop feeling sorry for yourself." He choked on the last word and tears filled his eyes. But no. He had to stay in control. He'd pushed everything down in the ambulance, he could do it again. Suck it up. Even if he'd stuffed up before, he could make it right now. By finding Guy.

The radio crackled to life. _"SheZow's just been spotted. Looks like she's grappling with Mocktopus at the pier. Units in the area please respond. We're gonna need back up…"_

"Aw, man, what are you doing, son?" Boxter said through gritted teeth. Though maybe he knew. Thumping someone up would've made him feel better too.

Steeling himself, Boxter stomped his foot to the floor and headed for the pier.

* * *

 **A/n:** Boxter's really struggling to adult right now.

Random question: Would anybody be interested in me starting one of those communities/message boards for the SheZow section? I know there's not a heap of action going on, but there does seem to be a few stories being posted. So if anyone wants a place to chat about SheZow? :)


	8. Chapter 8

Guy wasn't at the pier when Boxter got there. Just a grumpy and slightly dazed Mocktopus, who'd crawled back into the ocean cussing to himself like he didn't even care about the cops wondering whether they should attempt to arrest a disgruntled sea monster.

Boxter searched the streets of Megadale for hours. But he couldn't pin his son down. There were a few more reports of SheZow having it out with villains. But Boxter always arrived too late. Even the horsepower of the Mustang couldn't get him there in time. Not that he was pushing it. After what had happened, driving made him really nervous, and he was being ridiculously over-cautious.

Hours passed and Boxter grew more and more apprehensive. All he was doing was driving! The feeling of uselessness was fast creeping back upon him.

"God, just let me find him," he said hoarsely. "Don't let him get hurt just because I've been an idiot."

His phone rang. Boxter checked; it was Droosha. She'd only be calling if something had happened with Kelly. So he pulled over, fighting that knot that rose up in his throat again. His chest was tight and physically hurt. "Honey…" he managed to get out.

"Kelly's out of surgery. She's stable; she's going to be okay."

Boxter shoulders sagged and he rested his head against the window.

"Boxter?"

"Yeah…"

"You okay?"

"Yeah…" he drew in a shaking breath. "Is she… she out of it? She's not in any pain?"

"She's still unconscious. She can't feel anything… sweetheart, don't cry, I'm still mad at you."

"I'm not," Boxter said. But he knew his voice was ragged. "I want to," he found himself admitting. "But I can't. I'm just… Droosha, I'm just tired." And that was true. He'd tried to sleep a couple hours in preparation for night shift, but thinking about the fact his son was SheZow, it'd been a struggle. He'd have been fine if it had just been a normal night shift. But after everything, the high speed chase, the ambulance, the apprehensive hours searching the streets and stressing himself out more and more in his search for his son, he was exhausted. "And you should be mad at me."

Droosha was quiet for a moment. "I'm sorry I yelled at you before. And threatened to hit you."

Boxter swallowed. "It's fine. It's not like you can hurt me anyway."

"It's not fine. And yeah, I could. Because you'd stand there and take it. And then just look at me with those big cow eyes. And you know I wouldn't, but I shouldn't say it either. I'm sorry."

Boxter squeezed his eyes shut. His wife was apologising to him first, after everything he'd done."I ran them off the road. And now I can't find Guy… I'm… I'm sorry… He was beating up villains earlier. They said on the two-way. But I haven't heard anything for over an hour. I told him it was his fault. Before. I… I messed up really bad…" He could hear his voice becoming more and more strained. "I'm sorry."

"Baby, it's okay…"

"It's not. Can't be not okay for what you said, but okay for me. I put Kelly in the hospital." Boxter put a hand to his face.

"She's going to be okay. She'll be ordering round the doctors in no time. But we do need to talk about it. But not now, okay? Let's sort out everything with the kids first."

"Yeah, I need to find Guy."

"Boxter, I know, you need to find him. But you're shattered, you need to go home and get some sleep."

"I gotta fix this…"

"It doesn't help any of us if you run yourself off the road. You don't need to punish yourself."

"Yeah, I…" Boxter sat up and ran a hand across his face. He groaned. "Yeah, I'm really tired." It hurt, because he knew he needed to talk to Guy. But his head was starting to trip out. He didn't need to hurt himself or anyone else driving around aimlessly and dead tired. "I'll sleep for a couple hours, then I'll go look for him. Let me know if Kelly wakes up, okay?"

"I will. Sweetheart, I love you, okay?"

"Love you too."

* * *

Boxter drove back home, pulled up at the curb to the scrape of one of the Mustang's rims. He drew in a breath, gathering himself even just to open the door and step out.

Guy was sitting on their front steps.

Boxter's shoulders sagged. "Aw, son…" He was okay.

He was just in his cargoes and hoody. Sitting there with his head in his hands. Boxter stepped out of the car and walked over to him. "Guy…"

Guy looked up; his eyes were bloodshot and red. It seemed to take him a second to process that his father was standing there. And then he shot to his feet. "Dad…"

"Hey, are you okay?" Boxter took a step towards him.

Guy stepped back, body wired and hands tensed into fists. Eyeing Boxter warily. "You know I'm SheZow, don't you?"

Not the brightest way to phrase the question if he wasn't sure. "Yeah, son. I know."

Guy sniffed. "For how long?"

"Just last night. You know, the night before… what happened last night. I saw you change."

Guy swallowed and rubbed his hand across his face. "It didn't matter if I ran away, did I? You already knew."

"Son, it's okay." Boxter reached out for him, grasping for his sleeve.

Guy dragged his arm back, looking away. "Don't touch me."

"Aw, Guy. Look, Kelly's alright. She's at the hospital, but they said she's going to be okay. Just talk to me…"

"I messed up!" he burst out. "I couldn't control the Shehicle, I should've been able to. I… she's really hurt, isn't she?"

"She was hurt, yeah. But it…" Boxter couldn't tell him about the back of the ambulance. For both their sakes. "It wasn't that bad. She was in a car accident, of course she was a little roughed up."

"Don't lie to me, Dad! She's my twin! And I've got SheSP! I could… I could tell she was…" Guy hugged himself and his eyes filled with tears. "She was really hurt, I could feel it…"

Boxter swallowed hard. "What? You felt what she was feeling?" No. The last thing he could take right now was knowing both his kids had been through that.

But Guy shook his head. "No, not like that. I don't know, but I just know. And I know she's okay now. That's why I came home. It wasn't like I was having any luck with villains anyway…"

Boxter's shoulders sagged. "Hey, look I get it; you want to throw a few punches. But it's dangerous…"

"No!" Guy burst out, his hands balling into fists. "I want them to throw a few punches! But they're bloody useless! I threw the Shehicle on its roof! And I didn't have a scratch. But Kelly… how is that even fair!"

"Guy! I know you were upset, I understand that, but running out and fighting villains? At night? You could've got hurt."

"That was the point!"

Boxter's hands fell to his side. Guy had been so upset about what he thought he'd done to Kelly, he'd been trying to hurt himself in a fight. "Aw, son… I don't care what you think you've done, but you don't ever have to do that to yourself, you hear me?"

But Guy wasn't listening. "I'm… yeah, so I'm SheZow, alright? I bet you're really mad at me, huh? I mess up your work, and break the city and I run around in a dress, and… and I hurt Kelly!" He was shaking, he raised up his hands. Then he gave his father a shove.

"I screwed up! I lied to you, Dad!" He shoved him again, a little harder this time. But it was still pretty flimsy.

Boxter wasn't sure if Guy was just too upset to remember how to throw a proper punch, or if he was intentionally holding back. And he didn't care either way. Every last bit of anger he'd held towards his son had long since evaporated. "I know what you're trying to do," he said, holding up his hands to at least slow Guy down a little.

"I'm SheZow! And I've been doing this behind your back for months. I've… and I don't care what you think!" He threw a proper punch this time. It deflected off of Boxter's upheld hand. "I… I hate you, Dad! Come on, fight back!" Guy said, and his voice cracked.

"Guy, you can shove me around all you want. Shove me around until you actually do some damage, and unless you change into SheZow, that's gonna take you awhile. But I am not going to hurt you."

His son's hands were still tensed up in fists, held up in front of him. "I… I hurt Kelly…"

"No, you didn't. I chased you, and I'm sorry. I'm not supposed to. Not like that. How are you supposed to control a car when someone's up your tail like that? I know it was scary, and I'm sorry."

Guy lowered his hands, and tears started to fill his eyes. "You're not mad at me?"

"No. Now come here." Boxter opened his arms.

Guy just about collapsed into them, squeezing his father tight around his middle and burying his face in his shirt. He sobbed into the material, his shoulders shaking.

Boxter held onto him and rubbed his back. Aw, man. How could his words have so much effect on this kid? What did he see in him?

Guy pulled back after a moment, pushing away his tears self-consciously. "Sorry, Dad… I'm… I'm just tired. Is," he swallowed, "is Kelly really okay?"

"She will be. Yeah, she got hurt, but it wasn't your fault. We'll go see her, but we should probably get some sleep first, alright?"

Guy just nodded, still pushing back tears. "Okay."

Boxter opened the front door for him and steered him inside. The first light of day had just started creeping in the windows.

"Are you going to go to bed?" Guy asked.

Boxter honestly wasn't quite sure. He knew he was tired, but he still felt wired. He rubbed a hand across his face. "Don't know. I might stay down here and make coffee…"

"Okay. I might just stay down here then." Guy wandered into the lounge room and curled up on the couch, tucking himself into a ball.

Boxter went to the kitchen. By the time he'd made coffee, and come back into the lounge, his son was fast asleep. He just stood there and watched him for a moment. Guy was still wearing his shoes. Droosha would kill him. Boxter put down the cup and knelt down, pulled them off for him. His son didn't even stir.

Well, at least one of his kids were safe. He'd still scared him enough that he didn't want to go up into his room by himself though. Or maybe he just didn't have the energy.

Boxter pulled out his phone as he sat down on the opposite couch, and texted Droosha. She needed to know Guy was safe. Then he put the phone down and put his head in his hands. Man, he was so tired. But everything was okay now, right? Somehow he'd made it through that hell of a night. And all he wanted to do was break down quietly by himself, get that out. Guy was dead out of it; he wouldn't hear him. But he was too tired even for that. Instead, he sunk back into the couch; his eyes slipped closed and he fell asleep.


	9. Chapter 9

When Boxter woke it was nearly midday, and there were three texts on his phone.

One was from Wackerman, letting him know he'd gone home. Like he needed permission, or felt bad about leaving, or something. Man, he'd done more than enough already. His partner would've been more than warranted to deck him, or get back at him through some more official channel. Instead he'd been there for him. Boxter swallowed and texted him back. _Sorry I hit you._

The next was from Detective Johannson. _You're an idiot. Let me know if you need Anything._ Which was actually one of the nicest messages you could get from Johansson. Capital Anything meant she knew you were about to get into trouble for something, but if you asked she'd go into bat for you. Or she'd make sure you got a counsellor that actually cared about your feelings. Or… Anything. It probably wasn't the best idea to use that bit of code for every bit of under the table dealing she did. She was going to get herself in trouble with internal affairs one day.

Boxter groaned and rubbed a hand across his face. He wasn't really sure if he wanted her to put herself out for him. Not after he'd done something so stupid. Cause yeah, they were going to want to know why they'd chased down the Shehicle so hard, caused it to crash. He wasn't sure he deserved it. But he'd figure it out later.

The last was from Droosha. Kelly was awake.

* * *

Boxter drove Guy to the hospital in the Mustang. He was pretty sure the fast car should've excited him, but his son just stared out the window.

"You think Kelly's going to be mad at me?" Guy eventually asked.

"Guy, if she's mad at you, just tell her to be mad at me. It's my fault."

Guy looked up at him. "You were just doing your job."

"My job isn't to run people off the road," Boxter said, fixing his gaze resolutely ahead. "Soon as you started driving so fast, I'm supposed to stop. I didn't."

"Dad, I was SheZow, I know how much you hate her. Course you're gonna chase her." A pause. "We're going to have to talk about this, aren't we? What happened to Kelly… and me be- being SheZow." Guy's voice held a slight tremor.

Boxter swallowed hard. He couldn't discuss this; not right now. "Son, just let me take this one, alright?" He was a fair bit more awake now, but he suddenly found that knot in his throat was still there. The damn thing hadn't gone anywhere. He blinked the blurriness out of his eyes. "Yeah, we'll talk about SheZow. But nothing you've done is this bad. This one's on me."

Guy brushed his father's sleeve with a hand for a moment, then he pulled it away.

* * *

Boxter trailed behind Guy into Kelly's room. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. Droosha was sitting on a chair near the door, and smiled at him faintly when they came in. And Kelly was in bed. She was sitting up, a little unfocused with dark circles under her eyes. But she didn't look to be in any pain. At worse, a tad uncomfortable.

For the last few hours the only image Boxter had been able to conjure of his daughter was of her scrunched up in his arms. His shoulders slumped when he saw her and he swallowed hard.

"Guy!" Kelly said when she saw her brother.

Guy gave her a tentative grin, then came over and slipped up on the bed next to her, putting an arm gently round her shoulders. "Hey, sis, you okay?"

"Yeah," Kelly said, her words a little sluggish. "I guess." She reached out a hand for the bottom of the bed. "Can you pass me my medical chart? Mom won't get it for me…"

"Huh?" Guy frowned.

"I'm bored. I need something to read…"

"Kelly," Droosha sighed. "You don't need to read your medical chart."

"Can you even read a medical chart?" Guy asked.

"Um… maybe?"

Kelly was okay. I mean, she was obviously on a few drugs. But she was okay. Boxter felt tears well up in his eyes again. And that damn knot. He swallowed hard, but it stayed right where it was. He'd been able to push it down before, but now, with no more reason to stay in control, he couldn't do it. He'd found Guy. And Kelly was okay. She was still hurt, but she didn't need him to protect her now.

"Hey, I'm sorry you got hurt," said Guy.

Kelly blinked at him. "It wasn't your fault."

Guy smiled faintly and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. But hey, you'll have a really good story to tell now. Like, whenever the guys are all going on about how they hurt themselves falling off their skateboards, you'll always have the winning story."

Kelly seemed to think about that for a moment, a little slowly. "Yeah… I guess its really annoying when they do that… you do that too…"

"It's not annoying if you win."

Boxter hugged himself, and sunk back against the wall next to Droosha's shoulder. She couldn't see him there, not unless she tried to look right at him. And Kelly and Guy were talking. He squeezed his eyes shut hard and hung his head, but couldn't stop the tears that had started. He could feel his shoulders start shaking, his breathing become jagged.

"Aw, Dad,.."

Boxter looked up to find Kelly looking right at him.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

Boxter stared at her a moment, his chest heaving. "I…sweetheart, I'm sorry…" he choked over a sob. "I'm so sorry…"

Kelly said nothing, just opened her arms wide.

Boxter slipped up on the bed next to Guy, gently put his arms around Kelly and buried his face in her shoulder. "I… I know I hurt you. I'm sorry." His body shook with sobs; he could feel his daughter rubbing his back, Guy's hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay, Dad," Kelly said eventually. "I'm not mad."

Boxter pulled back and pushed away tears. "You know I shouldn't have… shouldn't have chased you," he sniffed.

"Yeah, well… maybe I shouldn't have told Guy to keep driving the Shehicle when you wanted him to pull over," Kelly shrugged. "That was kind of dumb."

Boxter blinked. "Huh?"

Kelly blinked back at him, then her drug-addled brain caught up with what she'd said and her eyes widened. "I mean… SheZow… who I was… with… for… reasons…" she squeaked.

"It's okay, Kelly," Guy sighed. "He knows."

"Oh."

Boxter groaned. "You told Guy not to stop? Why?"

"You can't find out he's SheZow! It'd be… complicated. And I didn't want you to yell at me."

Boxter was still a little shaky, but somehow the revelation it wasn't his son who had decided to run helped him pull himself together a little more. "Aw, Kelly… Guy, how come you thought it was your fault?"

Guy chewed his lip and looked down at the bed. "I should've been able to control that spin. I mean, I drift all the time…"

Boxter groaned again, rubbing at his eyes. "Well, doesn't matter. It's neither of your fault. It's mine."

"Dad," Kelly grasped his arm firmly, and her gaze became a little less foggy. "It's okay, I forgive you."

Tears welled in Boxter's eyes again, but he just smiled faintly and pushed them away. "Thanks. But hey, you're… feeling okay?"

Kelly nodded. "Mostly. I think they gave me drugs," she stated flatly. Then her eyes focused on the bottom of the bed and narrowed. "Can I have my chart?"

Boxter sighed, ran a hand through her hair and then kissed her on the top of her head. "Go on, talk to your brother."

He moved off the bed and then sunk into the chair beside Droosha. His wife put an arm around his shoulders. "Hey, you're okay. You just had a big night."

Boxter sat up a little straighter and tried to smile at her. "So are you mad at me?" he asked.

Droosha looked at the floor, but rubbed his back. "A little bit," she said quietly. "But if Kelly can forgive you, I can forgive you too. Although…" she smiled faintly. "Once she gets back home she's probably going to need someone to get her drinks and food and stuff. That can be your job."

"Heh…" Boxter sniffed. "Okay, deal." He probably would've done it anyway; he still felt terrible about what Kelly had been through. Still felt terrible, but he was starting to feel better. They were all out of the worst of it.

Well, at least as far as Kelly's health went. Boxter sunk back down, resting his elbows on his knees. He lowered his voice. "What are we going to do about Guy?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know; he's SheZow."

"Tell him to stay in at night…"

"You know what he was doing last night? Fighting villains… trying to get himself in trouble because of what had happened to Kelly. It's dangerous. And not just at night. I don't want him to get hurt."

"Boxter," Droosha rubbed his back again. "He has superpowers."

"He's twelve. And it's not just that. I mean, what's with the dress and stuff…"

"You know," Droosha frowned, her eyes narrowing a little. "He's SheZow. Pants would just look… weird… with that shirt."

Boxter sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "Look, I'm not trying to be a jerk. I'm just…"

"You're just trying to look out for the kids, I know. But don't go overboard, alright? Guy's not trying to get up in your grill. He's trying to protect people, same as you do."

"Yeah, but…" Boxter looked up, watching Guy talking to his sister.

Guy was trying to distract her, making faces. Usually, that would frustrate the hell out of Kelly, but with her higher functions still somewhat compromised, she was struggling not to giggle.

"I know you'll tell me it shouldn't matter to me, but it does. Because he's gonna get bigger, and someones going to figure out he's not… what he seems…" The last thing he wanted was for his son to get hurt. And not just by villains. If anyone ever found out, the media, the bloody internet, they would have a field day.

"You mean not a girl?" Droosha said, a growl creeping into her voice.

Boxter closed his eyes briefly. "Yeah. I'm sorry, but I don't want my son to blunder into anything that'll hurt his feelings. Probably would've helped if he'd updated the uniform." He could feel Droosha staring at him, and wasn't sure if she was angry at him or not. He didn't want to look and find out, because he wasn't quite sure his emotions were under control enough to handle it.

"Alright for a woman to do a job traditionally a man's. But they find out that's Guy and they'll be making all sorts of insinuations." Droosha eventually said, voice low. "It shouldn't matter."

Boxter glanced across at his wife then. She was watching the kids, her gaze hard. The same look he'd seen in her eyes those times she resolved on something worth fighting for. He hadn't seen it in awhile. But hell, if anything was going to reawaken that borderline militant streak she'd had when they first met, it'd be someone messing with their kids. Far more than whales, or trees or pesticides. He smiled faintly, and Droosha caught him.

"What?"

"I'm just thinking," he said. "If anything does happen that I'm gonna have to deal with… makes me feel a lot better I've got you on my side."

Droosha blushed and looked away. "And on Guy's side."

"Yeah. But look, maybe it shouldn't, but what people think? It'll matter to a teenage boy. Trust me. We need to talk to him."

Droosha sighed. "Okay, we'll talk to him. We figure out why he's doing this first, then we figure out how we're going to handle it. Don't fly into one your rants."

There was very little chance of that happening after last night. "Deal."

Droosha kept her hand on his back. Boxter watched the kids continuing to much around; Kelly was starting to look a little sleepy. They didn't yet know what a rough ride they were in for. But Boxter knew he and Droosha would be there for both of them, whatever happened.

* * *

 **A/n:** Woo. Okay. So that's done. I haven't written straight angst for awhile, and I realise why. Brain overload. I'm hoping I did not detract too much from the fact Kelly is in hospital, but there's a lot they got going on, so ehr. And yes, Kelly would totally want to read her medical chart. XD

On another note, I've tried to start a fanfictionnet forum under the SheZow category. It hasn't shown up yet, but I'm following up and hopefully it'll be working soon. So keep an eye on that space cause there will be a forum there soon!


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